


Requited

by chemically_imbalanced_romance



Series: Smallmarch au [2]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Cussing, Lucien does a punch, M/M, Mary mentioned in passing, let me know if I missed anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_imbalanced_romance/pseuds/chemically_imbalanced_romance
Summary: To make up for whatever the fuck that was in the cemetery, Robert brings Damien lunch and Damien shows him around his garden.





	Requited

**Author's Note:**

> Damien’s dialogue… hard…  
> Also can someone please lmk if Damien being vegetarian is canon or just a common headcannon? I can’t remember eao;ih;oigh

Damien finished plating his food just as Lucien’s door opened and shut. Lucien dropped his backpack on the ground and fumbled with the coffee machine.

    Damien gently shooed him away, handing him the plate. “I’ll get that. Go eat.”

    He turned off the stove and cleaned up while Lucien woke up. “Do you have a class today with that girl you were talking about?” He set the mug of coffee in front of him.

    Lucien spent way too long taking gulps of his coffee, and when he finally set it down again, his face was pink. “Yeah.”

    Damien smiled. “You’ll be fine.”

    He groaned. “I _know_. I gotta go.” He put his empty plate in the dishwasher, and grabbed his backpack.

    Damien chuckled as Lucien practically sprinted out of the house. He was about to go back upstairs, when the door opened again and Lucien called, his voice hard, “Did Robert make you cry?”

    He hesitated, his stomach churning. “No?”

    Lucien appeared in the doorway, a bouquet of red roses in one hand, a small card in the other. He read from it deadpan, “Damien, sorry for making you cry, Robert.”

    Damien blushed.

    “It was a misunderstanding,” he assured. “Come on, you’re going to be late for school.”

    Lucien glared, shoving the card back in the bouquet. “What did he do? Did he-”

    “He didn’t do anything,” he said softly. “I promise. We’re okay.”

    Lucien gave him a suspicious look, but grabbed a vase from under the sink and began to arrange the flowers. He paused, and then sighed. “You took him to the cemetery, didn’t you? He scared you with some stupid urban legend, didn’t he?”

    Damien looked away, his body hot with embarrassment. “Yes. Please, Lucien, go to school.”

    “Dumbass,” he muttered, and it was unclear who he meant. He set the vase on the table and left again.

    When Lucien was really gone, Damien shut himself in his library, and began his letter. He had trouble deciding what exactly was too much to say, and what was too little. Robert was an intensely private man, and Damien had only ever seen him close with Mary. Whatever the reason he was so reserved, he knew the possibility of scaring him off was just as great as brushing him away. He finally settled on being straightforward.

 

    _Dearest Robert,_

_I was overjoyed this morning to find the bouquet you sent me on my doorstep. The flowers are beautiful, now resting in an antique vase in my kitchen, and the sentiment warmed my heart._

_I’m writing to invite you to a picnic lunch. I enjoy your company so much, and I’d love to spend more time with you. We could eat in my garden or, if you’d rather, in the cemetery. Does this Saturday, at noon, fit your convenience?_

_Sincerely,_

_D. Bloodmarch_

 

He got a response the next day.

    Lucien came in from school, stomping into the kitchen and waving the crumpled piece of lined paper in Damien’s face.

    “Does Robert know what a mailbox is?”

    Damien blushed, snatching the note. “Did you read it?!”

    “Dear God, no. I wouldn’t want to risk seeing your guys’ sexts in Victorian grammar.”

    “We don’t- Never mind.” Damien peeked at the note as Lucien grabbed a soda.

   

    _Damien,_

_Sure. Saturday’s good. Glad you liked the flowers. I’ll bring the food._

_-Robert_

 

The food bit, truthfully, terrified Damien, but he didn’t want to show just how manic he could be just yet. He folded it back in the exact same crumpled way Robert had it, putting it in his pocket it stash in his desk later.

    When he looked up, he frowned in confusion as Lucien stared off into space, a ghost of a smile on his face.

    “Lucy, did you smoke?”

    Lucien’s gaze snapped to his, now equally confused. “What? No.”

    “You’re acting…” Damien struggled for a moment, before just saying, “high.”

    “I didn’t smoke,” he insisted.

    “I know, I know, I believed you the first time. What’s going on? Did you have a good day?” Lucien, as much as Damien hated to admit, didn’t have many good days. When they came he liked to hear all about them.

    Lucien shrugged, and almost smiled again, but stopped himself. “I guess so.”

    “What happened?”

    “It’s stupid.”

    “My love, nothing that makes you happy is stupid,” Damien said firmly. “Now, what happened?”

    “That girl I was telling you about,” he mumbled, so low Damien could barely understand him, his face practically on fire, “she sat with me and Ernest at lunch today.”

    All Lucien had really said was she was a goth girl named Carly who moved here recently.

    He smiled. “That’s wonderful, Lucien! What does Ernest think?”

    “He likes her, too.” His eyes widened. “Wait, not like- Like _I_ like her, or anything. Just that he thinks she’s cool.” He bit his lip. “I gotta go.”

    Damien chuckled and squeezed his shoulder as he passed. “I expect to hear more about this girl over dinner!”

    Lucien just groaned.

    ***

    Damien took way too long getting ready.

    He worked right up until the doorbell rang. He set down his makeup brush, and closed the vanity, his heart pounding. He pulled open the front door to find Robert standing there, not with a basket but with a black backpack in hand.

    “Good afternoon, Robert,” Damien said. “Here, I can take that. Are- Are you alright?”

    Robert blinked, meeting his eyes again as he handed over his backpack. “Yeah. You, uh, you look good.”

    Damien blushed. Thank God.

    “Oh, and here.” Robert pulled a bottle of Mountain Dew: Code Red from inside his jacket and handed it to him. “I thought about bringing wine, but I remembered you don’t drink, so…”

    Oh, goodness. It was completely, one hundred percent not fair how sweet he was being.

    “Thank you,” he managed, and quickly stepped aside. “Here, come in. You’ve seen my garden before, yes?”

    A few years ago, Damien hosted a tea party in his garden for the adults in the cul-de-sac. It was sort of a bust; Mary showed up first, dragging Robert behind her, and the three of them watched as everyone else came and went. Nobody stayed for more than twenty minutes, claiming they needed to get back to their kids.

    Robert and Mary had helped him clean up afterwards- Robert wasn’t happy about that -while Damien pretended to not be bothered, and he insisted they take the quite plentiful leftovers off his hands. He left the parties to Joseph now.

    “Yeah.” Robert’s face twisted at the memory.

    Damien hesitated. He always prided himself on his garden, but he knew it was eccentric, and if Robert already had a bad impression…

    He tried sounding casual as he asked, “Well, perhaps you’d rather be at the cemetery, then?”

    Robert chuckled. “I’ve _definitely_ seen the graveyard before. I haven’t been to your garden in a while, I wanna see it.” He waggled his eyebrows, his voice dropping to a teasing tone, “Unless you’ve let it go?”

    He pressed his hand to his heart. “I’d never!”

    “Let’s see it, then.”

    Damien beamed as he held the door open, watching the look of awe push through Robert’s usually apathetic expression.

    Robert turned to look at him. “How many hours a day do you spend gardening?”

    Silence.

    “I plead the fifth.”

    Robert snickered as Damien blushed.

    Damien laid out a blanket for them to sit on while Robert pulled out food in tupperwares.

    “Mary wasn’t fucking with me when you said you were vegetarian, right?”

    Damien blinked. “No, that’s correct.” Did Robert actually make vegetarian food?

    “Mary helped with this,” he sat out a big container of spaghetti and very obviously vegetarian meatballs, “so if it’s bad, put the letter of complaint in _her_ mailbox.”

    Damien laughed lightly and lowered himself down across from him. “Will do. But they look great.”

    “Do they?” Robert narrowed his eyes, inspecting the meal closely.

    “Something you should know about meat substitutes is to never expect it to taste like actual meat. A lot of it is really good, but that’s it.”

    “Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “So you just haven’t had, like, steak or anything close to it for how long?”

    “About four years. And, well, _sometimes_ it tastes accurate, but I’ve never had vegetarian meat that tastes exactly right.” He smiled as Robert plated their food. “What are they made out of?”

    “Uh, tofu? A bunch of grinded up vegetables. Some other stuff, shit I didn’t understand.”

    “Well, it sounds lovely.”

    Robert watched him suspiciously. “Does it?”

    Damien took the plate and made a show of tasting it. The flavours didn’t all blend together in the way they should, but it was still good. “Wonderful.”

    Robert grumbled under his breath and looked away. He pulled out some small side dishes, and Damien laughed as he set down two wine glasses. Damien filled them up with the Mountain Dew.

    “Just like the Victorians did it.”

    “So,” Robert started as they ate, “where’s your little brat?”

    “Out with Ernest and some girl. There’s a music festival in town they drove out to see, I believe.”

    “A girl, huh?” Robert grinned. Of course that was all he heard. “You gonna have to talk to someone’s father soon?”

    “Oh, that’s ridiculous.” Damien waved him away. “Lucien’s a mature kid, and I assume this girl is, too.”

    “Mature? Really? We’re talking about the kid who tried to Cask of Amontillado another kid?”

    “He was messing around with a friend,” he countered. “I have no doubt in my mind that he would have stopped on his own.”

    “Kids are dumb. Especially in relationships.” He paused, and then asked, somewhat hesitantly, “Is the food okay?”

    “It’s perfect,” Damien promised.

    “Good. I wasn’t sure…” He didn’t continue.

    Damien reached over and rested his pale hand atop Robert’s. “I’m enjoying myself. As I always do around you.”

    Robert’s face flushed. “Right. Um. Me too.”

    After they finished eating, Damien showed him around the garden, along the short cobblestone walking path. At one point, while Damien was rambling on and on about Victorian floral language, Robert took his hand and laced their fingers. Damien found it hard to focus after that, not that he was complaining.

    “Did I make up for what happened at the cemetery?” Robert asked as they walked inside, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

    Damien looked at their hands. “Definitely. Maybe we can-”

    Robert ducked away easily from Lucien’s fist, his eyes wide. Lucien lunged away, and Damien grabbed him around the waist, dragging him away from Robert.

    “What the hell, kid?”

    “Lucien!” Damien gasped.

    Ernest was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, at the foot of the staircase, and a girl with long blue hair and a skirt with suspenders giggled into her hand.

    “You made my dad cry!”

    “Lucien, stop!” Damien put himself between Robert and his son, grabbing his shoulders.

    He finally stopped struggling, huffing. With Damien’s grip loosened, he shrugged himself free and crossed his arms over his chest.

    “Goodness, Lucien, we’ve talked about this!”

    He just glared at Robert. “Don’t know what you see in this dude.”

    Damien blushed. Robert set his backpack down and came to stand in front of Lucien, Carly and Ernest’s laughter dying down.

    “Listen, kid,” he said quietly, and Damien was so stressed out he could faint, “you wanna protect your dad, that’s great. But it _was_ an accident, and I apologized, so you don’t get the face.” He smacked his own arm, twice. “Right here.”

    Lucien looked at him in surprise, and Robert nodded. He winced as Lucien hit him as hard as he could in the arm.

    Robert patted his shoulder. “Good man. Go back to your friends.”

    “We’re talking about this later!” Damien called as Lucien, Ernest, and Carly headed back to Lucien’s room. He turned to Robert, and asked, exasperated, “What was _that_?”

    Robert grinned. “Gotta teach him the rules.”

    He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I apologize. He shouldn’t have hit you.”

    Robert shrugged. “Nah, he’s good. He was just tryna watch out for you. He’s definitely not _mature_ , but you’ve got a good kid.”

    Damien smiled. “I suppose so.”

    “Well, I’ll leave you to deal with that.” He pulled his backpack back on, and winced. “You’ve got a strong kid, damn. I’m lucky he didn’t hit my face. Fucker woulda broken my nose.”

    “Um, Robert, before you go…” Damien took in a deep breath. “It’d really be an honour to spend more time with you.”

    Robert looked away, poorly hiding his smile. “Yeah. Maybe you can come over tomorrow. We can watch a movie or something.”

    After he left, Damien relaxed for a moment, letting his heart calm down. Then he started planning what he would say to Lucien.

**Author's Note:**

> highkey that letter was one of the hardest things i've ever written, it took me 15 minutes 
> 
> Comments > Kudos


End file.
